Just Lucky
by Ml Dutch
Summary: The galaxy is a large and daunting place. By its sheer size many events that seem impossible will line up by what seems like luck. More often than not, life is decided more by luck or the whim of fate than skill. And luck always runs out.
1. 1

_O for a voice like thunder, and a tongue_

_To drown the throat of war!_

_When the senses_

_Are shaken, and the soul is driven to madness,_

_Who can stand?_

_When the souls of the oppressed_

_Fight in the troubled air that rages,_

_Who can stand?_

_When the whirlwind of fury comes from the_

_Throne of God, when the frowns of his countenance_

_Drive the nations together,_

_Who can stand?_

_When Sin claps his broad wings over the battle,_

_And sails rejoicing in the flood of Death;_

_When souls are torn to everlasting fire,_

_And fiends of Hell rejoice upon the slain._

_O who can stand?_

_O who hath caused this?_

_O who can answer at the throne of God?_

\- William Blake

He couldn't remember exactly what had happened. One moment he was in his home, peacefully enjoying the sunbeams that snuck into his home. The next the world was nothing but chaos and destruction. He wandered through the streets of his hometown that he walked through dozens of times before, recognizing nothing. What once stood the homes of friends and neighbors stood only broken building with the street strewn with their gore. Angry fires unleashed their furies on the skeletons of what had been.

Nothing seems familiar to him anymore; everything was now terrifying. Distant explosions and gunfire could be heard. Tears streaked down his cheeks, cutting rivers through the dirt and dust that coated his face. Pain spiked through his bare feet, the rubble pushing against his own weight. Fear held such sway over his heart he could only scream.

"Mama!" He yelled at the top of his lungs through sobs. "Mama! Mama!" He was barely over three years old and screamed for the only comfort that he knew. Everything that he once knew was gone. His daddy, he remembered his daddy. He remembered how strong his daddy was and how he could pick up anything. He had seen him pick up rocks as big as him and lift him with one hand in the sky. He was so strong he could even pick up mama.

Mama. He remembered that right then that mama and daddy told him that he had to keep baby sister safe, he was her big brother. She was still in mommy's tummy so he had to make sure mommy was getting rest. Her tummy was so big! He tried to keep mama safe when they were running. He remembered being home then daddy running and carrying him. Mama was right behind daddy, and then everyone was knocked down by a big rush of wind. That was all he remembered and now he was alone.

His body was wracked with his sobs, his eyes and face red. He put his hands against his belly in a subconscious attempt to protect and comfort himself. He walked slowly through the marred road, each step hurting. What he didn't see was the lithe shadows that followed him. The shadows and taken a keen interest in the pitiful, sobbing creature. They watched from afar at first, but the temptation to go near the child was too great to resist anymore.

In the blink of an eye two imposing and dark figures towered over the small boy. He jumped and let out a whimper seeing these invaders. They were awful to behold. They looked like the monsters in the book his daddy would read to him before the Space Marine hero's beat back the bad guys. But they were so much more dreadful in front of him than in his picture book.

The two monsters stared at this innocent child. To them, it was as if staring at virgin snow untouched and uncorrupted, a blank canvas. They lusted at the chance to desecrate this untainted and pure vessel. They salivated at the chance to be forever etched to his psyche. What they would and could do would be a work of art to be marveled at.

They spoke to each other in words he couldn't understand. The creature in front of him squatted down to his level and stared him in the eyes. The little boy let out a muffled wail of fear looking into its eyes. They were completely black. Long flaming red hair went down the shoulders and back of thing before the child, held behind long, pointed ears. Around its body appeared to be hard plates and spikes in dark, near black, green. He could sense there was another creature right behind him but he dared not turn around to see.

They spoke and said things in words he couldn't understand. The one right in front of him directed its words to him but he only stared back unresponsive, trying to hold back his sobs of fear. The creature in front of him uncoiled a long, pointed, finger and quickly jabbed the child in his stomach. The jab hurt and drew a cry from him as he rubbed the spot where the offense lay. The creatures made a sound that could be interpreted as a laugh at his cry. The creature reached out again with its armored finger toward his exposed arm and with a quick flick of its hand lightly scratched the child, purposeful as not to draw blood.

The boy recoiled his arm more in fear than pain but that didn't stop him from screaming in a form of agony. He held tightly to his arm as more tears flowed more freely from his eyes. Still holding on to his arm he managed to yell, "NO!". The face of the monster in front of him contorted into something of a smile. The boy then reached out and slapped the creature exclaiming, "BAD!". A roar of laughter erupted from the two devils at the small child's defiance and attempt to hurt the experienced warrior.

Their laughter was cut short when the creature in front of the child turned its head in a gesture of listening. It then spoke to the one behind motioning to its ear and then to sounds of the explosions and gunfire. They were being called back into the fray and if they didn't respond promptly, they would jeopardize their loot. Sighing more from annoyance at the interruption of their fun more than anything, the monster that squatted before the child stood upright. From its waist it drew a long and curved blade. Normally, this human calf, or child as they consider it, might fetch a price in the slave pits but that was not the purpose of this raid, taking random animals hoping to turn a profit. They had a goal in mind so, in a sense, this pup was a lucky one. Instead of the life of a slave it would die right here and that was merciful.

Had the pair not been so fixated on the torment of this small boy they might have heard the heavy pounding of boots. The dark fiend in front of the child was suddenly and violently rammed from its left side by an olive-green blur. As the fiend tumbled down with the green pile, his comrade started to react but its movements were cut short by a concentrated stream of blue light through its neck, severing its spinal column and esophagus. As it fell to the earth already dead, its companion had just hit the ground with this green mass rolling on top of it. It felt the green mass grab it as it rolled itself upright and slammed it into a concrete pillar. The dark monstrosity was jolted as its head collided with the pillar and felt an object press into its stomach. Three powerful pulses of blue plasma wracked the creature, one to weaken the armor, the second to melt it, and a third to kill it. It stared down into the blue eyes of the green mass in front of it, the surprise of the ambush and the speed it was executed permanently etched on its face.

The boys still stared in fear at the green man that stood before him. He looked like the toys he and his daddy would play with. He had the same khaki colored clothes that stuck out between the hilts of his green armor that covered almost the entirety of his body. He remembered his daddy saying that these were the good guys and came to help people when they needed it. The green clad soldier turned and looked at him with a smile as he put down the smoking gun and crouched down to his level.

"Hey buddy," came the friendly voice of the soldier. He had taken his helmet off revealing closely cropped hair, flattened by his helmet. The child could see that he had the same stubble, or scratchy's as his daddy called them, on his face. His blue eyes were kind and endearing. The soldier had his gloved had stretched out, palm facing the sky as an invitation to take his hand. Still, he was unsure of the soldier and everything still was scary.

"Hey, hey, hey, it's O.K., it's o.k. You're safe now, I'm your friend," came the friendly voice. "You miss your mom and dad?" the soldier asked. The little boy could only nod. "We can go find them. Come on," invited the soldier. The child stared and took small, hesitating steps to the soldier as he reached out his arms. He finally fell into the hard chest of the soldier and grasped his chest plate tightly, whimpering softly as he did. The man wrapped his strong arm around the quivering child and placed his helmet back on and picking up his pulse carbine weapon with the other.

"That was a hell of a shot, Pathfinder," the soldier said looking at the Tau Pathfinder that was perched behind a concrete wall. Shas'Ui Wran'dis had simply used the aim assistance array in his helmet to make the shot. From nearly two hundred meters, he thought he would have missed but it appears that luck was on his side. His translator turned the Gue'vesa radioed words into something that he could understand. He didn't respond, he simply sent an acknowledge signal through the line and started to move out from his location.

The soldier jogged through the rubble wastes to his unit that remained in cover in case his half planned, impulsive idea didn't work. It was a total of a six-man squad, himself included. They all looked like they were drawn from any human military regiment with their green flak armor and sand colored clothing. Most had seen some sort of combat in the past, not major campaigns by any means but each had been blooded. What would set them apart from any other regiment were their plasma-based weaponry that was provided to them by the ruling class over this planet. The Tau had come decades before to this world and without a drop of blood added it into their empire. All the soldiers in front of him were born under Tau rule, himself included, not Imperial.

"Great, you saved the kid. Now what?" quipped his sergeant. She was stern but also well experienced. Her face bore the scars of battles past, tanned by distant and far away stars, and chiseled and etched into a permanent scowl by the hands of an unforgiving universe. What she lacked in charm she made up for in leadership and discipline. As usual, however, her straight forward attitude caught him off guard. He hadn't planned much further than saving the kid. Now a combat unit had a toddler with them.

"Well sergeant," he started. "I figured we could head west to the shelter and drop him off there. At least there he will be safe and have food and water." The sergeant snorted in frustration.

"And deviate from the objective? No, you will put him in a building, give him some of your food and water, tell him to hide out until he hears people, and we will press forward to the rendezvous and push back these raiders. If he stays with us, it's a guarantee that you, him, or both will get killed. At least this gives him something of a chance." The sergeant was dodging responsibility and, what infuriated Marcus, was right. The boy would be in danger with a combat unit that was certain but the sergeant's suggestion was not practical from a _moral_ stand point. At best, the suggestion was lazy. Doing this would surely kill the child just more slowly than a raider's blade. They had no way of knowing how long this battle would go on for or how intense it might get. The soldier shook his head from annoyance and decided to retort with a flippant comment himself.

"I'll do you one better sarge," he frankly stated, making sure he locked eye contact with his commander. "I'll bet you a month's pay that not only can I get him to the shelter out west but I can get him there and get to the rendezvous before you can." The sergeant stared him up and down, the gears turning in her head. Finally, she sighed heavily, closing her eyes.

"Look, Marcus," came the exacerbated voice as she clenched the bridge of her nose. "I'm not going to give you a bet, alright? He can't stay with us simply put. If you want to endanger yourself and open up a slot for second in command then by all means, go. The shelter is three clicks from here." Her gaze went from frustration to exasperated and tired. She didn't want to argue with Marcus much like a parent dealing with a stubborn child. She wanted to get this battle over and done with as if it were an arduous chore to be done, not a battle to be fought. The whole unit's attention was on him. Marcus nodded and began to turn when another voice pipped up.

"Permission to escort the corporal, ma'am?" Marcus saw it was Stone that spoke up. Stone had gone through boot with him and both went their separate ways after that. Somehow, years later they had come back together when a shock unit was to be created and volunteers needed. The sergeant shook her head in annoyance.

"Permission denied, specialist. Move out." Stone shot a glance at Marcus. Marcus stared back into his near black eyes and motioned with his head to follow the unit. No sense in both of them getting into danger. Stone nodded with a forlorn look on his face and proceeded to run to catch up with the rest of the unit.

"Hang on tight best buddy, we're gunna get outta of here," whispered Marcus to his precious cargo. The boy said nothing, clinging for dear life to his hard flak armor. He did a quick adjustment of the boy, hanging tight to him with his left arm and holding firm to his pulse carbine in the other. With the child nestled tightly to his chest, helmet on firm, ammunition strapped to his belt, and his map of the city he started to run westward.


	2. 2

Cautiously running through the abandon streets of the town was an unnerving task. He had found the boy near one of the first landing spots of these raiders and everything was nearly laid to waste. Now, he was running through near pristine streets. They were abandoned when the klaxon signaled everyone to assemble at the refugee bunkers. Those bunkers had been built ages ago for this very purpose and most people still knew their location so evacuation was as orderly as it could be while under fire from an unknown foe.

Marcus knew he was a couple blocks away from the entrance to the center he only had to weave through a few more roads. He ran up to a building, still clutching the boy, and pressed his back into it. The boy hadn't moved and just kept his eyes shut so he couldn't see what was happening. Marcus looked down to check to see if he was still alright and readjusted his holding of the small child, eliciting a small whimper from his cargo. Marcus paid no mind to the whimper and edge closer to the end of the building and carefully peaked around the corner.

His heart dropped at what he saw as he quickly pulled himself back from around the corner. Multiple, dark armor-clad invaders stood roughly five meters down the road. His glance was so quick he wasn't able to get a solid count of the enemy. It didn't matter how many there were, there could be two and that would be more than he could handle by himself. He only could take the other two when saving the boy since surprise was on his side and he had a squad and over-watch support. This seemed so impossible to overcome. Marcus leaned his head against the cold, hard surface of the building as fear induced cold sweat started to permeate through his whole body. He decided that he needed a better look and turned to steal a quick glance.

The figures started to move away down the road at a quickened pace. Thinking quickly, though not thoroughly, Marcus rounded the corner and walked quietly and carefully. He looked down with each step to make sure he didn't step on anything that might give away his presence. He looked around the street to see if there were any spots that he could quickly dip into and hide should the immediate need arise. He spotted an alley diagonally from him coming up on the other side of the street that he could hide. Keeping his eyes on the invaders ahead he picked up his pace toward the alley but doing his best to maintain proper distance.

He could hear his heart thundering in his ears. He clenched his teeth anxiously, darting his eyes from where he was going and back to the warriors in front of him. If one turned around, it was over for him and the child. He felt his blood rush as he neared the alley with anticipation and his heart beat ever faster. He finally reached the alley and gently placed his back on the wall of the building. He had not realized he was holding his breath until his lungs started screaming at him for fresh air. Marcus breathed heavy and tried to slow his heart down as he controlled his breathing.

He had barely started slowing down his heart when shouts and a disorienting explosion rocked the area. The warriors he was trailing came running back shooting down the street as blasts of blue plasma erupted around them. Marcus flattened himself against the wall as much as he could. He could see three aliens shooting at something down the road. They had knelt down to get a better shot and make a smaller target. They all felt the ground shake and the raiders looked up and tried to run as a giant metal beast came to bear.

With a dull clunk, it batted away one warrior furthest away from Marcus. The alien flew in the air until it made contact with a building, leaving a cratered indentation and a sickening crunch. The armored beast then fired its Burst Cannons that were attached to its large arms. The other two warriors were ripped to bits as pieces of them flew in all directions. The alien that had been slammed against the wall tried to get up before being gunned down in a similar method to its comrades. Marcus dropped his rifle to quickly turn on his IFF tag in his helmet.

The metal beast jerked to the sound of the dropped rifle, it's guns ready, but stopped short of unleashing its fury. The XV95 Ghostkeel was a machine that was armed to the teeth and something Marcus never wanted to be on the receiving end of. The head of the Ghostkeel opened up revealing the pilot. The pilot didn't have his translator with him or on since he simply pointed in the direction of the refugee center. Marcus nodded and pointed in the similar direction. He gave a thumbs up after pointing in the direction of the refugee camp with a quizzical look on his face. He hoped that the ally in the battle suit understood that he was asking of the route was clear. The pilot simply shrugged. The route was clear-ish and with that the pilot closed his hatch and turned to regroup with his cadre.

Marcus let out a heavy sigh as he bent down to pick up his rifle and moved around the corner. He saw a cadre of Fire Warriors at a corner of a four-way intersection examining a map of points of enemy contact. Marcus jogged past them since he needed to head straight towards the camp. The warriors only regarded him in passing as they narrowed on an objective and moved out down the direction Marcus had come from.

He kept up his jogging pace for what felt like ages as his legs screamed out for him to stop and his arm started to cramp from holding on to the child. Distant explosions and plasma fire started to sound a lot closer as he progressed through the ghost town. A couple more turns through the winding roads and he came face to face with a blockade and a fierce firefight.

He stopped just in time enough as a blue plasma bolt narrowly missed his face and ducked to cover behind the building he just rounded. Slowly, he stuck his head out to see the battle. More dark armored invaders firing at the narrow entrance to the refugee camp. There was an entrance perfectly centered down the middle of the street Marcus stared down and could make out that another road ran perpendicular to Marcus location making a T. An entrance that was only large enough for small vehicles with a waist high concrete barrier in front. Chain-link fence jutted out of the concrete barriers blocking the road with razor wire across the top. Civilians were flowing into the encampment as quickly as they could. Marcus could see some fall dead as they were struck by enemy fire despite the best efforts of the six Fire Warriors to provide covering fire. Marcus continued to scan his surroundings to try and get a tally of raiders and see if there was any other way into the camp to finally drop off the child. He counted a total of seven raiders that he would have to get through. That wasn't going to happen without help and a lot of serendipity.

"This is Corporal Marcus Hull of the 1st Volunteers," radioed Marcus, activating his helmet-based radio with his free hand. "Current location is twenty meters from the entrance to rally point Sanctuary. Contact front, count seven, requesting cover fire on my marker." Marcus cleared the line and waited anxiously for a reply. Eternities seemed to pass until he caught the static of a response. A distinctly alien voice was muffled by a translator and difficult to make out from all the gunfire in the background. Ultimately the voice was impossible to make out. "Say again!" came Marcus' stressed response.

"Thi- is Shas'La' Pech-" came the broadcast in and out. "-hat is your location?"

"On my IFF marker, twenty meters, front!" came Marcus' response a little more sternly than what would be considered appropriate. Marcus tipped his head around the corner and saw a helmet on the other side of the barrier twenty meters away do the same thing. He then heard the scratch of the incoming transmission.

"Co-irm. We have your location -arked. Negative on covering fire, waiting for supp-" the transmission was cut again as a raider through some sort of explosive device rocking the area with a deafening sound. The defenders were being hammered and couldn't hold out much longer. More civilians fell as the explosion sent shrapnel into the throngs of desperate people.

Setting down his carbine, he reached down onto his belt and felt for his own little explosive device. He felt the hard, smooth surface of the frag grenade hanging on his belt. He knew frag grenades were not that impressive but it might make enough confusion that he could slip by he hoped.

Peeking around the corner he noticed three dark armored figures ducking for cover behind the remains of a ruined vehicle. Placing his pulse carbine in his hand that cradled the child and using his one free hand he lobbed the frag grenade in the direction of the foe. It flew gently in the air with the aliens unaware of its existence until it was too late. The frag grenade landed with a dull thunk a pace behind the three raiders. One barely had turned its head to see the source of the sound when the grenade violently erupted making its presence known. The resulting thunder clap knocked down neighboring raiders, as others ducked for cover.

Precisely when the grenade went off, Marcus took that as his chance to start his marathon to the entrance of the refugee camp. He focused as best he could straight ahead and saw only the camp with people now trickling in. The sun shined brightly above the camp and perfectly illuminated the road. As he sprinted, exerting every fiber of will and strength to move his frame and tightly hold his priceless load, he could hear the aliens coordinating and speaking. As he came tantalizingly close to the entrance, he saw to his left a dark raider exposing itself from cover.

The world started to move slowly as Marcus saw the rifle of the raider start to rise and aim towards him. Holding out his pulse carbine out with one hand, he fired with reckless abandon hoping that the raider will duck or flinch out of instinct to let him keep running. His whole arm tensed against the kick of the pulse carbine as each bolt fired wildly around the target as it zeroed in on him. A blue bolt from his carbine struck the concrete barrier the invader was hiding behind. Concrete kicked up into the helmeted face of the alien. It instinctively flinched at the close proximity of the bolt. Marcus paid no mind and proceeded to exert more effort to run faster to safety, praying that the alien would find a more interesting target.

Blue bolts flew past Marcus' head behind him towards the enemy. He saw three Tau Fire Warriors breaking cover unleashing hot fury from their long pulse rifles. A stray round from the aliens struck the warrior to the right of Marcus in the chest dead center. The warrior crumbled to the ground like a lifeless doll. The other two paid no mind and focused their fire to keep the enemies head down. Marcus approaching the entrance and forced his body to attempt to exert more effort or more energy to make it last little bit despite his furious protests at his demands.

With a mighty leap Marcus flew through the air clearing the concrete barrier and tumbled to the ground. He laid sprawled on the ground, his chest heaving as his lungs screamed for more air than he could draw in one breath. He heart thundered at almost the same pace as a Gatling gun and each extremity twitched with each heartbeat. He wasn't clear though, not by a long shot. That small barrier would not keep back a determined enemy.

Summoning strength he didn't know he had left, Marcus clutched the boy and jogged with his back hunched to avoid the attention of the enemy. He moved up to the entrance of Sanctuary and saw a few people trying to rush in. Behind the giant and heavy half-closed doors stood two Fire Warriors. He approached them attempting to hold out the child as the boy tightened his grip on his armor in a vain effort not to be separated.

"Here! We found this boy! No idea where his parents are! I need to get to the line!" Marcus shouted over the din of the firefight behind him. One of the Fire Warriors nodded and held out his arms to grab the child with the other ready to close the doors.

"Tywin!?" came a female voice from the right of Marcus. Marcus and the Fire Warrior turned their head to see a heavily pregnant woman and dusty, muscled man next to her come running up. The small child snapped his neck in the direction of the voice and cried loudly with arms fully stretched in their direction, "MAMA! DADDY!"

The small family embraced each other sobbing tears of joy as they rushed into the camp. With their entrance into the camp the two warriors closed the heavy doors. Marcus made his way to the line in total shock of the chance happening of finding the boys' parents. 'Of all the camps and people in this city what are the odds that they'd be here exactly when I got here?' he marveled to himself. He crouched low against the barrier with his carbine waiting for a lull in the shooting to return fire.

"The Emperor truly protects." He muttered to himself as grabbed the Aquilla rosary that hung around his neck.


End file.
